


I just came here to the party for the drugs

by Ryenan



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Celebrity Illumi, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealer Hisoka, Drug Dealing, Drugged Sex, Nonbinary Illumi, Other, Rich Bitch Characters, Semi-Public Sex, Sex worker Illumi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryenan/pseuds/Ryenan
Summary: Hisoka is a dealer, Maichi is a socialite, Illumi is a celebrity.Illumi is an addict, Hisoka is lecherous, and Maichi is the only reason any of these people have friends.Dead Dove - lots of drugs, sex, and questionable consent mechanics.No Nen powers in this world! Inhuman drug and pain tolerances only.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (I’m not tryna make a friend or fall in love)

_Maitchimaker_ : Wear something cute tonight

_Hisoka_ : Oh?

_M_ : Call it a blind date

_H_ : A blind hookup, you mean

_M_ : I’ve been waiting a long time to introduce you two

_M_ : don’t have to trust me, just wear something cute

_Maitchi_ : Party tonight. Someone I want to introduce you to. Dress hot

Illumi responds with a string of emoji, a single question mark at the end. It had taken months on months for Maitchi to learn to parse that language, but that had been six years ago, and she was as close to fluent as you could be without actually just being Illumi. She responds in kind, answering each criteria with a simple set of thumbs up or down emoji, no words required.

_Illumi_ : K

xXx

The door opens into the party a little too late for an arrival, too early for someone leaving, and admits a slim, black-and-white figure. The goth look is out of fashion this year, replaced by glowing neons and soft, edible pastels on even the staunchest of holdouts - Chrollo, in the kitchen, wearing golden cream; Feitan with him in bleeding red; but - but. With skin that pale and eyes that dark, the newcomer must be living in a monochrome world, ink on paper, feathers in the snow, and black on black on fair white skin wasn’t a choice, but a fact of existence.

A pale hand - as white as the cheek it brushes against, somehow, like a perverse advertisement for forgoing sunscreen and just living in a cave, brushes a few strands of hair back, to tuck behind a pale ear, where they tangle briefly in a shiny gold hoop like those fingers had forgotten setting the metal to their skin earlier in the night -

“Hisoka, you’re narrating again. That's Illumi Zoldyck, who has, in fact, probably forgotten about putting earrings on, and they’re looking for you.” Maichi is tall and beautiful and obviously irritated, leaning over the back of the couch he’s sitting on, brightly dyed hair mingling with his own.

“Those legs? That hair? For me? Maitchi, it’s not my birthday.”

Hisoka goes to stand, but Maichi’s sharp manicure digs neatly into his shoulder, keeping him put.

“Illumi Zoldyck. Fuck up, and they can, will, and will enjoy hurting you significantly. While you’re here in my house, no salts, no lithium. No fucking on my couch while the party is still on. Clear?”

“Yes, mommy. Let me go. I can handle - ‘

“No, Hisoka, you can’t. That pretty little thing nosing around the bar is your perfect match, and if you fuck up you will regret it for the rest of your days.” 

Hisoka doesn’t wait. He’s up, halfway across the room to Illumi before she’s really even finished warning him, and Matchi watches him go, no expression on her face - what she had told Hisoka was a warning, about who Illumi was, what they could be to each other, but Hisoka hadn’t really heard. No one ever did.

Xx

Hisoka stops at a respectable distance - not because he doesn’t already desperately want to touch, but because he wants to look. Illumi looks like desert, like a sliver of chocolate, a spoonful of cream, a single dot of raspberry liqueur next to a mint leaf - Illumi looks delectable, and expensive, and like he isn’t all there. 

“You’re higher than Heavens Arena, aren’t you?”

“I’m here to see Maichi.”

“I’m Hisoka,” - a flicker of comprehension, Maichi told them who he is - “Maichi sent me over. Nice to meet you.” 

Illumi doesn’t respond, doesn’t return the peasantry, but steps close into Hisoka’s space and sets their thin fingers on his bicep. They’re cold and firm, and short acrylic nails press against his skin with a threat polite enough to be taken as a suggestion instead.

“Then let’s talk.”

Xx

“Maichi seems to think that we could be,” He can’t but help to lick his lips, layer as much suggestion on as possible, “friends.”

“Maitchi told me you have drugs, a big dick, and weak morals. I don’t want to be... friends.”

They’re blank. The twitch of an eyebrow or curl of a lip is totally missing, no emotion or context Hisoka can read. The tilt of their head, roll of a shoulder - there’s a suggestion of body language, that something is being said, but not in any way he can understand.

The words themselves, however, he can respond to.

“I’m prepared to offer you one of those things up front, and the weak morals are innate, so call it a freebie. What’s your poison?”

“Tramadol, if you’re considering putting your hands up my skirt, or acid if you don’t put out on the first date.”

Illumi’s voice iscompletely flat, like they are reciting something in a forgein language, nothing to show they know how hot that sentence is, or could be, with a little inflection.

“You’re completely disinterested and still talking like that. Are you high already, or just desperate for it?”

“I’m not disinterested or high.”

“But maybe desperate?”

“I trust Maitchi’s judgment, and see no reason to tiptoe around the fact she said you were good for, and I’m interested in, a good dickng down.” 

“Are you always this blunt?”

“Yes.”

That... shuts down the conversation very neatly, leaving Illumi’s black owl eyes to blink at Hisoka’s artificially red irises, their bodies blocking the drink bar. Hisoka is looking for something to salvage this conversation, some way not to be so put off by Illumi’s dead fish personality, when someone bumps Illumi and their eyes go wide.

“Babe, excuse me! My bad.” Their stare off has been interrupted by a soft, tan hand and a bare shoulder set against Illumi’s thin waist and their back, the young woman leaning past to paw at a vodka bottle. 

There’s no change to their face, no grimace or sneer, beyond the slight widening of their eyes before there’s no face to see, just a curtain of black hair slinging into place as Illumi twists, jerking the hand off their waist and tangling fingers in the offending party girl’s hair.

“Do you know who I am?”

Hisoka wants to scoff and walk away from Illumi with that one sentence. What a rich brat thing to say.

“Oh - Oh my God! I’m so sorry, you’re Zodlycke, I had no idea.”

Hisoka’s thoughts stutter out. Did that trick just work? Are there actually two people in this apartment that could pull off that trick?

“It’s pronounced Zoldyck,” Illumi replies, releasing the fawning woman. “Your apology is accepted.”

“I had no idea you’d be here - I love your work, and Maitchi throws such amazing parties - I’m Anne - “

“I don’t want to talk to you. Chrollo Lucilfer is in the kitchen, if you want to talk to a celebrity who will appreciate your nonsense.”

Illumi is back - well, not back in his arms, but back in his face, black eyes disturbingly focused on him. Pupils blown that wide, Illumi should be so high that they can’t focus, but they are.

‘Who are you,’ Hisoka doesn’t say. He knows a name, and more information is next to useless. 

“How do you know Chrollo is hiding out in the kitchen?”

“”Same way I knew he was here. Maitchi won’t let us cross paths, unless she wants to end the party.”

“Bad blood?”

“None of your business.”

“Oh come now, isn’t this is supposed to be a date? Don’t you want -”

“I’ve already told you what I want, and the only thing you need to know about me past that is that I can pay, in whatever format you want.” 

“What a person needs and what they want are often different things... I’ll give you a discount if you tell me more about yourself.”

“I’ll pay double for you to shut up.”

“Are you this awful to all your dates?”

“Only the ones Illumi would fuck. Illu, I told you you’d like him. It may not look like it, but he can get his feelings hurt, you know.”

“You told me that about the last one.”

“Did I?”

“That I’d like him.”

Maichi rolls her eyes at them. “You’re a nightmare, Hisoka’s a nightmare, you’ll get along great. And if you don’t, he’ll still deal to you. No moral qualms on this one. You could try him out. Burn off a little stress.”

“I’ll pop tabs of acid on your tongue until you stop handing me cash or pass out, is what she means. I’d fuck you, and I’ll fuck you high if that’s what you want. No cutoffs, no limits, no qualms, just like she said.”   


Illumi looks at him, wide, blank eyes and flat expression. Hisoka holds that cavernous gaze, and curls his hand around Illumi’s hip, not content to just be gripped, clawed at, without getting to touch Illumi as well. Maichi was right. Shitty attitude or not, Illumi was magnetic, and Hisoka wanted.

“Has Maichi’s meddling ever ended well for you?” 

And that’s... not what Hisoka was expecting them to say. They have Maichi by one hand, holding her as witness, and Hisoka by the other, reeling him closer one breath at a time. 

Hisoka thinks about the man in the kitchen, about his dalliance with Maichi herself, and smiles a bitter, cold smile.

“No. There’s a first time for everything, though. And endings aside, Machi always made sure I’d have fun.”

Illumi drops Maichi’s hand, and she steps away.

“Good enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you working tonight?” 

“Hmm? Oh,” Hisoka says, noticing what Illumi sees - three women, waiting patiently a few steps away.

“I am working. Do you mind?” 

Illumi doesn’t answer, just steps back and plants themself at the bar, sliding onto the stool directly behind Hisoka and reaching for a bottle.

“I’ll be right back, Illumi.”

—

Hisoka returns to Illumi quickly, barely wasting any time flirting with the three women who wanted only the most basic of pill cocktails. Illumi is still perched at the bar where he left them, two glasses with thick streaks of red maraschino juice coating the sides being administered to by pale hands. 

Hisoka brackets Illumi, hands gripping the edge of the bar on either side of their thin frame, and leans over one shoulder.

“Those look fancy. Is one for me?”

“You’re very hot, Hisoka. Are you running a fever?”

Hisoka lifts one arm and slides in sideways next to Illumi, so he can see their face. That was very clearly a ‘get off me, now’ if he had ever heard one. 

“My apologies.”

Illumi nods, and then Hisoka feels the chill press of Illumi’s fingers against his stomach, dipping lower as they searches for a pocket, before they’re replaced with the well known feeling of a roll of cash. The action brings Illumi steadily closer, the other hand on his arm roving over his shoulder, towards his neck. The condensation caught on their fingertips is chilled, even more so than Illumi’s skin. 

“That is 200$. I don’t fuck without a slightly longer discussion, but I’ve sucked enough dicks for blow that I like the two together now, so get me high again and we can have some fun.”

Hisoka’s breath catches halfway through that flat, calm statement, and doesn’t restart until Illumi has rocked back, looking expectant. But he can’t just start pressing pills or slips of acid between Illumi’s teeth.

“Give me one of those drinks, and let me sit. For that kind of service you are going to have to tell me a little about yourself, you know.”

Illumi doesn’t frown, face impassive, but there’s something like a frown in the slope of their shoulders. All the same, they rise from the bar stool long enough for Hisoka to take their place before settling easily on his lap. 

Illumi is light, and their soft thighs are warm against Hisoka’s leg in a way their fingertips aren’t against his chest. 

“How old are you?” Hisoka pulls up the calculator on his phone as he asks. Age doesn't factor into the calculation, but he likes to know everything he can.

“Twenty four.”

“Height? Weight?”

“Are you calculating my acceptable dosage of something? I’m not -”

“Height and weight.”

Illumi sighs, and reaches up to scratch thin acrylic claws against Hisoka’s jaw, before reaching into their skirt pocket for a slim notebook. 

Height, weight, blood pressure, food and drug intake - the page Hisoka flips to is very detailed. The bottom margin of the page has a string of X and O marks in green and black. Flipping through the other pages, he sees more of the same. Some days have no marks, others have dozens. 

“What are these?”

“For my work.” They flip the book back to the latest entry for Hisoka. “Here’s today.”

The page is half empty, compared to the others, and the handwriting is soft and curling. 

“Your work?” 

“Yes. I have copies of my most recent STD tests, if you like. I’m HIV negative, and am on suppressive medication for HSV.” 

“Sounds good. So X versus O -“

“That portion of my record keeping system is not your business, Hisoka.”

Hisoka drags a finger across the marks, smiling.

“I just want to know if you prefer to give or receive, Illumi.”

Illumi doesn’t answer in words, but shifts in their perch to stretch their legs across both of Hisoka’s thighs, pale knees not quite folding over the second wide, muscular thigh.

Their skirt is short, but not so short it doesn’t neatly cover Illumi’s wandering hand.

Hisoka let’s his hand with the small book fall to rest on those smooth, pale knees, the other hand rising to Illumi’s hair to urge them closer, so he can whisper into their hair.

“What are you doing?” 

“You’re here to work, so I’ll make this quick.” They are making short work of his button and zipper, fingers lingering just long enough to excite without drawing into suspense. “Maichi would be awfully mad if I ruined her party by distracting the only plug for too long.”

Hisoka exhales sharply, eyelids fluttering closed for just a second as Illumi deftly pulls his cock free of his underwear. The feeling of polyester along his length - the feeling of Illumi’s white skirt brushing his sensitive skin as Illumi’s fist pumps up and down, right out in the open - is heady, and Illumi has him fully hard in mere moments.

“Tramadol, Hisoka?” Illumi asks, unperturbed, mouth open and tongue poking out. 

Even with minimal slickness against his cock, Hisoka is feeling this handjob all the way down to his toes, and is having a hard time thinking straight. He does manage to pull two round white pills from the appropriate pocket.

“An hundred milligrams, Tramadol,” Hisoka says as clearly as he can, so Illumi knows what they are taking.

Illumi doesn’t let the fingers that press the pills to their waiting tongue escape, sucking all three - thumb included - into their mouth and rolling their tongue through every gap. They sit this way for several minutes, a steady flush rising on Hisoka’s chest and neck under Illumi’s impassive gaze and skilled hand - and mouth.

Hisoka’s free hand has wandered to Illumi’s hip, grip too-tight on the soft flesh of their hip, crushing the thin white tennis skirt irreparably.

_ “Illumi Zoldyck, you better not have started giving handjobs in my living room before it’s even midnight -” _

Pakunoda doesn’t yell - she never yells, but her rich, deep voice and rolling vowels carry across the room and catch the attention of everyone between her and them. She’s speaking in Russian, so very few people understand just what she’s said, but they know the name she’s calling, and all eyes turn to look at them, following her accusatory glare. 

Hisoka tries, quickly, to pull his fingers from Illumi’s mouth and receives a bone-crunching bite for his trouble, Illumi’s incisors cutting into his skin easily with the force. They follow this with a tight twist of their wrist and a quick drag of filed acrylic nails across the sensitive skin at the base of Hisoka’s cock. 

Hisoka bites his own tongue as he comes, trying to hold his features in check, but Pakunoda must see something on his face all the same, because she starts to stalk across the floor toward them.

_ “No,”  _ Illumi calls to her, also in Russian.  _ “Just the one tonight.”  _

They twist around, slipping from Hisoka’s lap to stand between his legs and lean back, covering their handiwork. 

Pakunoda doesn’t snarl, just like she doesn’t yell, but a Russian cussing-out could make anyone’s toes curl. Except Illumi, apparently.

“Are you done? Do you want a turn?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is from that UPSHAL song. I love it, and it gives me hardcore Illumi vibes.


End file.
